


Kiss and Make Up

by Excaliburstark



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Cuties, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Stubborn John Watson, Stubborn Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 20:05:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Excaliburstark/pseuds/Excaliburstark
Summary: A kinda soft one shot about two idiots who are too stubborn to admit they love each other





	Kiss and Make Up

John leaned back into the head board. His book now discarded, put aside for a less important moment.

Right now Sherlock, who had been perched on the end of the bed had moved into an odd position like a child on a play mat waiting for a story to be read, his legs inched nearer to John and further away from the edge of the bed.

John sighed he always loved Sherlock presence but he'd been constantly around ever since they'd solved their last case. 

He knew part of it was probably Sherlock's bordem as no cases had since arisen so sherlock felt he had no choice but to bother John all the time in order to feel entertained. 

In may ways John was glad as it meant sherlock wasn't doing other things he shouldn't, it let John know that no bad habits had gnawed it's way back into Sherlock's life. 

Unfortunately it meant never having a moment to ones self. 

Sherlock's pale face, the colour of marble, so cold and harsh was softened by the moonlight that cloaked the room. Sherlock knelt, knees braced on the mattress as he leaned forward. 

"John, I-" Sherlock started, John's eyes snapping up to him, his attention captured by those blue eyes 

Sherlock's dark eyebrows knitted together, placing a delicate hand on John's bare chest - graceful violinist fingers splayed, he moved closer. His lips ghosted John's mouth with such trepidation and sweetness that John found himself breathless. 

Trying not to grab Sherlock's dark curls and mash their faces together, he breathed slowly out his nose. 

This slow sweet kiss was everything he'd dreamed it would be. Sherlock leaned further into John, collapsing into him like a star about to explode

Supernova

His teeth clashed with John's as their tongues wound together in an intimate tango. 

John, gently put a hand on Sherlock back, encouraging him forward. Sherlock lithely obliged, his shins fencing John's stretched out ones

Sherlock moved quickly, tongue dipping to swirl patterns across John's broad shoulders and suck bruises onto his neck. His hands continued to pop open his shirt, one button at a time. 

Sherlock moved forward fingers eager to touch John's chest, his abdomen, the dusting of small hairs that led from his belly button to somewhere unseen- but John caught his hand. 

Sherlock looked up at him, baby blue eyes reflective like a deep pool that John would've happily of drowned in but something stopped him. 

John's breathing was stuttering out of his chest like gas out of an old petrol pump but his hand stayed steady. He shuffled so that he was sat a little straighter, propping himself up in the oak headboard. 

"Why now?" John asked, licking his lips. 

It was a reasonable question, he and Sherlock had been dancing around one another's feelings for months now despite knowing that the probability of those feelings being reciprocated was fairly high. 

Sherlock must've known, probably before John himself did, how John's feelings had evolved to something more than friendship. 

So why now? 

Ironically now was not the time to ask that question. 

Sherlock sat back, his long thighs stretching out for infinity as they rested on either side of John's. 

"Why not now?" Sherlock asked, puzzled by the sudden change in direction. He fiddled with one of the buttons on John's open shirt. 

"We like each other and I've never done this before, this whole-" Sherlock was silenced by John's booming voice. 

"You've never done this before?" John asked, eyebrows raised. Poisonous thoughts filling his head. 

"So this is just, what? An experiment? God, Sherlock." John huffed, his jaw set. 

"I should've known. Everyone is just a tool for you to maneuver and use as you please. Always an experiment. I actually thought-" John caught his breath suddenly, though it was more like the oxygen had just been sucked out of the room for Sherlock.

He looked at John expectantly. Hoping he would step up and tell him how he really felt but John did not. Instead he clumsily stumbled through his next words, saying all of them in a rather harsh tone. 

"It doesn't matter, I- Uh. It's late, I should sleep. So if you don't mind..." John said, his head tilted towards the door. 

Sherlock was stone, the hard contours of his face seemed sharper and his eyes narrowed as he took in John's sudden change of heart. 

John had hurt his feeling in one of Sherlock's rare moments of vulnerability and it made something bitter in him spike 

"Maybe you were an experiment." He started 

"A good looking army veteran with an obvious interest in me - your cheeks are always flushed when you see me, you stutter and act like a complete idiot although that might just be your constant state because apparently you're like that when I'm not around as well." Sherlock snarled, cruelly. Words curling like a dart on the tip of his tongue. 

"Maybe your stupidity just seems extraordinary compared to my stellar IQ, it must be difficult for you living with someone who's so much smarter. You must feel constantly amiss, then again how would you know? You must be so blissfully ignorant." He continued, his tone just as harsh and sparring as his features that currently blazed ice blue and froze those in his presence. 

John, throat moving as if to swallow though he did not, a look of anger and embarrassment flushed his cheeks red, his teeth were gritted and his hand was clench into a fist by his thigh. 

Sherlock was till sat upon John's legs so he could feel the low breath that John let out, it fanned across his face. He could feel John's taut shoulders rising as controlled anger radiated off him like a light bulb about to blow. 

His arm stretched out, for a second Sherlock honestly wondered if John was going to hit him in this strange, rigid state but he had moved to switch the nightlight on his bedside table off. 

The darkness seemed claustrophobic, like a crushing weight on him or maybe it was just Sherlock, who was still perched awkwardly with his knees braced on either side of John. 

Too tired to argue, John simply turned over and gave a small smile of satisfaction when he heard a loud thump and a distinct "Ow" 

Sherlock swiftly retreated. The door giving a brief wedge of glaring light that shone in from the landing as the door cracked open, long enough for Sherlock to dart through. 

John couldn't resist saying it as Sherlock lingered just outside the door

"For someone with such a 'stellar IQ'" John said, mocking "You really should've guessed that I was going to chuck you off." 

Sherlock slammed John's door shut, hard enough to make the frame shake, before he marched down the corridor. His bare feet slapped against the floor as he went off to his own room, probably to sulk. 

~

The sun rose, signifying the next morning but Sherlock's eyes had not closed. 

Last night's event kept repeating in his mind, images flashing like he was remembering a movie he watched years back except this was brand new yet it felt so old, so replayed. 

Sherlock's chest tightened as he remembered all the things he said in his moment of hurt. 

Although parts of it were true; John's obvious crush, Sherlock's clear intelligence and so on. 

Sherlock didn't feel satisfied despite his rather harsh and worthy insults that at the time had made him felt like he'd won.

Now he just felt... Well, shit. 

He moped, his silk blue dressing gown flying behind him as he traipsed over to the sofa and flopped upon it hoping to welder himself there for eternity. 

Mrs Hudson asked him a few time in a row if he wanted tea, to which he just groaned and kept untying and redoing the knot that bound his dressing robe together as his mind rushed away before the rest of him could catch up. He was wearing clothes underneath his robe - surprising, for sherlock. 

Mrs Hudson wandered back, a small tray with a cup of tea and packet of biscuits on as she asked aloud 

"You and John had a little domestic?" 

Sherlock sighed. He couldn't even say they had, considering they weren't a couple. 

Although he'd never admit it Sherlock had been thinking about John for a long time, too long. The man seemed to constantly cloud his thoughts. His own brother, Mycroft, had figured it out before he had which irritated Sherlock a great deal. 

He was even more annoyed to find out that apparently everyone else had realised ages ago too but the jokes they made bounced off sherlock at the time. He had sort of learnt how to block out banter and remarks about himself a long time ago, now he blocked it out in order to focus on more important things like whether or not John uses hair product. 

Mrs Hudson sighed, opened the packet of biscuits, ate one and hurried down the stairs. 

Sherlock didn't realise the reason for her quick departure until he was stood right in front of him, looking dishevelled and phenomenally tired. 

Dark rings circled his eyes in a purple bruise like shade and he stumbled a little as he walked to the kitchen avoiding Sherlock's intense gaze. There was silence. 

Although Sherlock felt he was to blame John's lack of sleep was not all to do with him, John had been suffering again recently from night terrors. 

Sometimes they were so bad that Sherlock would go in and just stay in the room with John until his breathing evened in his sleep. 

Sherlock doubted that John knew he was even there but somehow his presence settle him - possibly the familiar scent of Sherlock's cologne. It seemed to remind John that he wasn't fighting in the war anymore and that allowed John a few hours of actual rest. 

Sherlock dare not even breathe in case he startled the strange dense atmosphere that filled them room like a car exhaust. John seemed so fragile despite keeping his distance sherlock could some to sense it. 

Sherlock felt like his lungs, heart, his brain were all lacking something important - oxygen, John. 

"I'm sorry." Small, timid and never heard falling from Sherlock's lips before now. 

John slumped slightly into the counter, his hands shifting through his hair as if he were about to tear it out 

"Is your computer wiring just telling you to say that so I'll forgive you and forget what you said?" John murmured

Sherlock sighed, sitting up on the sofa "No. It's genuine, you already know that though." 

John turned to face Sherlock, staring at him. The kitchen seemed a different planet, the distance stretching between them hurt as if something were pulling on his chest. 

"I also know, as do you why I said all that stuff which is how you know I didn't mean any of it." He said, his voice low

John turned away, tired and fed up 

"Stop pushing me away because you're scared." Sherlock said, now on the edge of the sofa

He promised himself he'd stay there because he was afraid to move, worried his breath might tremor and give away his anxiety about John's reaction. 

John moved into the living room, stood near the skull that watched them on the end of the book shelf. 

"I can't. It's not- What if this isn't what you want? What if you realise I'm not what you want? Then I'll be homeless and heartbroken. Too many things could go wrong." John whispered 

"Homeless?" Sherlock questioned, appalled. 

"I would never ever kick you out. Not ever, this is only a home because you made it one." Sherlock said, an undetected urgency in his voice 

"I never should've agreed to move in with you in the first place, I've wanted you since I met you I just didn't realise it until much later but I always knew there was something there." John replied 

John softened, his features soothing over momentarily until for some unexplainable reason a tidal wave of sudden anger rose in John, who said:

"Cause everyone else realised I was that 'army veteran with an obvious interest' way before you did-"

Sherlock cringed at the use of his own words, he'd never thought his mouth could be a weapon that would be turned upon himself. 

"- and maybe you thought that you returned those feelings. Did you ever think maybe you only like me because I liked you first? Because I'm the only person who has ever actually liked you in any way? You don't exactly have friends, Sherlock." John finished, his tone bitter enough to poison an elephant

"You're right. I don't have friends." Sherlock started 

"I've just got one. He's my best friend in the whole world and right now, he's breaking me. He can't tell from my face and he probably thinks he's dreaming because I'm about to say something that would never come out of my mouth in normal circumstances but it's like his fist is around my heart and he just keeps increasing the pressure." Sherlock said his voice crescendoing into silence 

They were the only thing that seemed quite in that moment. 

Dust notes swirled in the sun and the world outside was somehow still turning and living as peace shadowed over 221B Baker Street.

John stared at Sherlock, hard. Glancing over all the minute details of his face - The dark curls that hung over those bright blue eyes that were like planets in the sky. 

He knew he had something with this man since the moment he met him

There was a tangible magnetism between the two of them. A fusion that could not be undone by something as simple, as unpleasant as words

They were all just momentary weaknesses that would pass, perhaps temporarily damage them but that link would hold forever. 

Something in John seemed to collapse, given in to something he should've accepted a long time ago. They loved each other and denying it would be pointless. 

John stood, walked slowly. Paused in the doorway and titled his head. He looked tense and stern but nodded a gesture that implied Sherlock should follow him. 

So he did 

John shut the door of his room behind them.


End file.
